


Falconry

by JenCforCarolina



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 10:24:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12862548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenCforCarolina/pseuds/JenCforCarolina
Summary: Hawthorne loves her bird and the breeze, among other things.





	Falconry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gentlecoyote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentlecoyote/gifts).



> A little gift for a friend of her fab girlfriend pair! ^^
> 
> Also super kudos to @nemonus for beta-ing for me.

“Louis! _Hup!_ ” 

Hawthorne keeps her eyes locked with her bird, ready on his perch, as she throws the leather lure as high as she can in the air. He shoots off like a jumpship. His wings had been primed and they slam down with more than enough force to send him into the sky. He darts after the lure, and Hawthorne snaps the cord attached to it, sending the mouse-sized lump off to the side, spinning like a satellite on a line around her. Louis banks, flying up and away a short way before looping around and diving at the lure. He is very good at this game, but she has learned just the right moment to change the angle of her swing, changing the direction the lure is sailing and throwing him off just enough that he has to make another pass.

They had to come out here onto the Wall for this, a little way beyond the houses and clusters of people from the Vanguard’s new Tower. Louis needed space to fly, she needed space to breathe. And up here on the wall, the winds made that a challenge for both of them. But they liked challenges; they were wilderness people, and the easy drone of city life brought them to boredom. 

She twirls the lure like a lasso, changing the pitch and yaw of the loops, sending it higher, lower, and in sweeping waves. Louis moves like a lightning strike from a thunderhead, dive bombing one moment just as she yanks it away, rising back to circle, prepare, and dive again.

They fall into a rhythm, just different enough to keep them on their toes, but solid enough that the rest of the world faded away, until Louis breaks off suddenly, catching a glimpse of something else.

“Louis!” She shouts, snapping the lure in an attempt to catch his attention, but he’s already begun a dive at another creature. A Ghost, Hawthorne sees, just as it vanishes into digital space, moments before the bird’s talons make contact. He pulls up, avoids crashing into anything, and circles back to his trainer.

“Louis…” She warns, holding out her glove. He lands, dutifully but a bit crabby for not catching his prey. She’ll have to paint the lure or add some colorful fabric to it so he thinks it is different. He knows the brown is hard to catch and is looking for other, easier prey. She loops the leather cord though his anklets and clutches it in her hand, keeping solid hold on him. She takes a treat from her pocket and lets him snap it up. He’s done well with the prey, after all. Worked hard on the lure and nearly caught a Ghost. Speaking of...

“Who’s there?” She shouts in the Ghost’s direction. The Ghost blinked back into space, and Louis flutters on his perch, talons digging into her glove. He keens, and she shushes him, pinching his beak and tightening her grip on his leash.

Hawthorne peers at it. It _is_ a familiar ghost. He blinks at her, then emphatically blinks at something over his… shoulder. It’s funny to watch a little floating cube smaller than Louis make a motion so on point with a human waving their arm. And yes, it’s nameless who pokes a cautious head around the boxy exit grate of a ventilation shaft. Her expression scrunches in distaste as a gust of wind sends free strands of her hair flying into her eyes and mouth. She carefully and deliberately pries them away, and holds a fistfull behind her ear.

Hawthorne raises her eyebrows and gives Louis some chin scritches on her way over. “What brings you out here?”

“Wondering the same about you.”

“We were flying.” nameless blinks and she appends. “He was flying. I was encouraging.”

“Not training him to hunt Ghosts?” 

Hawthorne knows her well enough to sense the joke.

“Not yet.” She points a finger at the little shell and Louis’s attention snaps to it. The Ghost vanishes without a sound.

Hawthorne chuckles and nameless’s gaze shifts awkwardly past her, crossing the Traveler. “A nice view.” She remarks.

“Yeah, we find the best nooks.” The bird and handler preen together. “Though I suppose I’m needed back at base.”

“No. I told them to come back tomorrow.” n shrugged. “Your evening is clear.”

“Is it? What’s planned for yours?”

“Um.” For an intellectual Guardian she sure seemed short on words. “I was just walking. Nothing else really.”

Just walking indeed. “And if I hadn’t been here, would you stay or shamble off somewhere to read a book?” She challenges, and relishes the redness and embarrassed pout.

“The books here told me all they could long ago.” n protests. 

“That’s not answering my question. What were you looking for out here?” Smugness dripping from her tone.

“Actually, I was looking for correlations in barometric shifts and the specific wavelengths of the Traveler’s active and quiescent Light.” A transparent excuse. Hawthorne turns up her nose and gathers up the lure in her free hand once more.

“Well, I’ll just be here, a simple woman, training her bird. You’re welcome to watch if you like.”

There’s an unreadable shift of expressions, and a nonchalant, “Sure.” Hawthorne grins, victorious.

“Alright. Louis, _hup!_ ”


End file.
